


Be Sure to Check the Price Tag Before You Accept an Offering

by ScrollingKingfisher



Series: Gabriel Monthly Challenges [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Human Sacrifice, Pagan Gods, They nearly get sacrificed, Tricksters, but don't worry nothing happens, to them anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 18:11:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12846711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScrollingKingfisher/pseuds/ScrollingKingfisher
Summary: A trickster attends a human sacrifice. A trickster decides to accept a certain pair of hunters.A trickster makes a Very Big Mistake.





	Be Sure to Check the Price Tag Before You Accept an Offering

**Author's Note:**

> For the November prompt of the Gabriel monthly challenge;  
> 'Too many impostors claiming the title of Trickster these days. Some of us had to work for that name. Some of us created it. Our names only spoken in hushed whispers for fear of us hearing'
> 
> Thanks once again for all the help, @theriverscribe! You're a star <3

The trickster felt a call.

 

It hadn't been a trickster for very long. It didn’t even have a proper name yet. It had been many things in its (admittedly quite short) lifetime, but so far being a trickster was its favourite; sun, sex and all the virgins you could eat. There was barely any work to it, everyone seemed terrified of tricksters for some reason, but that was working out to its advantage. It just came when it was called. 

 

Why shouldn’t the humans worship them? Tricksters were gods. It was right that they acknowledged something superior to themselves.

 

So when it felt the twinge of a summoning, it responded eagerly, teleporting itself to a small clearing in a forest in Wyoming. It hoped that there were at least some decent human sacrifices. None of that ‘food gifts’ business, either; it had eaten the group of worshippers who had tried to summon it with a roast dinner.

 

It peeked in without manifesting first, making sure that there was nothing bigger and scarier responding to the summoning. There was a little stream running through the clearing, and a quaint little cottage on one side. It would have been very pleasant if not for the two naked men chained to the bloody altars. 

 

The trickster relaxed, fully manifesting and letting a savage smile spread across its face. Now this was it’s kind of party.

 

The pagans, stupid greedy little things, turned as they saw him appear. They bowed in front of him. Grovelling like they should be. 

 

“My lord! We bring you gifts.”

 

The trickster made a show of walking over and inspecting the sacrifices, bound tightly but still struggling. No virginity left in those two unfortunately, but they hummed with supernatural power. Especially the taller one. Mmm, it was going to enjoy this meal. 

 

The trickster put on its most regal-sounding voice. “You want a boon?” It made sure not to sound too interested in their offerings. It always haggled when it had the option.

 

The pagans nodded eagerly. The man at the front, who seemed to be the leader of the group, walked forwards with a piece of paper. The trickster took it and inspected the list. Nothing on there that would take more than a trickle of energy. Good.

 

“I accept,” it said, snapping its fingers and vanishing the list. There were a few ooohs from the crowd. So easily impressed. “I am pleased with your sacrifices; you have done well. You can go.”

 

They filed out eagerly. Typical humans; always willing to sacrifice one of their own for a few party tricks, never wanting to stick around and watch the blood-letting. They didn't need to know that it had taken a little of each of their life-forces into the bargain. That was what you got for dealing with a trickster.

 

It turned back to the sacrifices, casually strolling over, revelling in the helpless anger in their eyes. It pulled out its knife, brandishing it a little so that the blade deliberately caught the light. The shorter one grunted behind his gag, trying to escape the bindings. The taller one just watched attentively, not taking his eyes off the blade. He wasn't looking nearly frightened enough. The trickster decide it was going to kill him first. 

 

It raised its arm to strike, then something caught its eye. It paused. There was something… stuck to the man’s soul. Some kind of mark, maybe? The trickster shrugged to itself. It couldn’t be too important.

 

The man flinched away, and the trickster relished the grimace on his face, the sound of his heart beating hard where he was trapped against the cold stone. It raised the knife.

 

Out in the forest, a branch cracked. 

 

Instinctively, the trickster turned towards the noise.

 

Nothing there.

 

Of course there wasn't anything there. They were in the middle of nowhere. Irritated with itself, the trickster turned back and raised the knife again.

 

From behind it, a breathless wind stirred the branches. Rustling the leaves.

 

It suddenly occurred to the trickster that the forest was silent. Disturbingly, unnaturally silent. The hair on the back of its neck rose, prickling. Something wasn't right here. Turning its back to the sacrifices, it stared out into the darkness where the sounds were coming from.

 

“Don't you know better than to mess with a trickster?” It's voice echoed back, small and pathetic amongst the vastness of the forest.  

 

The branches rustled again, the leaves lifting and stirring, a ripple running around the clearing like a great forest beast wakening. “A trickster?” He heard a whisper, carried on the wind. “A weak little thing like you calling itself a trickster?”

 

So there _was _something out there, hiding in the darkness. Or more than one. It sounded like there was more than one. For the first time in a long time, the trickster felt a flicker of fear. It raised its knife. “What are you? Show yourself!”__

____

____

 

There was no reply. Just another hushed rustle.

 

The trickster snarled, trying to hide the fear behind anger, but the point of its knife was shaking. “These are my sacrifices! Mine! You're not going to scare me away with your cheap tricks!” 

 

The trickster sent a bolt of magic into the rustling darkness, but there wasn't anything to hit. It heard laughter, high snickers echoing around the clearing. Then the voices spoke again.

 

“Your sacrifices, you say?” they murmured into the trickster’s ear, smooth, amused. Dangerous. “What gave the impression that they’re yours when they're both clearly marked by other people?” It tutted. “You really should check the price tag before you accept sacrifices. If you had, you would have seen that these particular humans are spoken for. And then I wouldn't have to kill you!” 

 

The trickster spun on the spot, but the voice was coming from nowhere. That feeling was back. The feeling of a  _ presence _ . There was something huge out there, something massive, looming over the clearing, surrounding it...

 

_ “ _ Are you frightened yet?” The disembodied voices hissed next to the trickster’s ear. The trickster flinched, but there was no escaping them. “You should be. Too many impostors claiming the title of Trickster these days. Some of us had to work for that name. Some of us created it. Our names only spoken in hushed whispers for fear of us hearing…”

 

The rustling was growing, gaining power and volume, the darkness hiding the creature but doing nothing to mask the noises. The trickster’s head flicked back and forth, following the sounds coming from every direction, breath coming fast and panicked. A slithering. Just the hint of an enormous scaled hide as it slid past, rasping against the forest floor, just out of the torches. The scales glimmering dully, strong as tank armour, smooth as glass. Stories of great sea serpents came to mind, thick coils closing in on a helpless vessel, wrapping tighter and tighter until the beast closed in for the kill. 

 

“You should be scared,” the voices hissed again through a hundred mouths, a thousand, “you should be terrified!”

 

The smell was stronger now, seeping into the trickster’s lungs. Something musky and wild, an animal smell mixed with earth and blood and oncoming thunderstorms. An eye opened between the trees, then another, and another, irises throwing back the torchlight in eerie gold and red. The night outside the clearing stirred, churned, heaving with limbs and bodies. The chitinous clicking grew louder, whispers muttering just out of hearing

 

The trickster was starting to realise that it was badly outgunned. “I… there seems to have been a mistake,” it stuttered placatingly, backing towards the centre of the clearing. “I'm sure we can come to some agreement-”

 

“Nope. Sorry, bucko. Out of patience now.”

 

The trickster kept backing away. But it was too late to run. The clearing was surrounded. 

 

A growl rumbled out of the trees, so deep that the ground shook. The manacles rattled against the altars adding to the cacophony. It could have sworn that it heard laughter, like this thing, whatever it was, was enjoying the trickster’s panic. 

 

“Please! I’m sorry! You can have them! I’m sorry!”

 

Out of the gloom a face appeared, scarred scales and fur and too many eyes. But the worst part was the mouth. Gums pulled back in a savage smile, exposing sabre teeth as long as the trickster’s arm. Strings of saliva rippled as the growl grew to a roar, a warm wave of fetid breath washing over them. The trickster was paralysed with terror, a deer in the headlights, unable to move as the thing slithered closer. The maw opened, wider and wider, and it lunged forwards and then-

 

.o0o.

 

Dean shrugged into his jacket, grimacing at the holes in it where the worshippers had gotten a little too enthusiastic with the ceremonial knives. “Did you really have to eat him, Gabe?”

 

“‘Thank you, Gabriel. You saved us from those mean humans and the trickster that was totally going to eat us, we’re forever in your debt!’” Gabriel mimicked in a disturbingly accurate impression before his voice returned to normal. “Although, I'm not sure if I'd even class that cheap knockoff as a trickster. What kind of supernatural being can't recognise an angelic claim when they see it? Kids these days, with their texting and murder.” Gabriel sighed. “Everything out there with more than an iota of power is calling themselves a trickster! The quality’s definitely going down. Just call me sooner next time, yeah? Before they start carving you up like a thanksgiving turkey.”

 

Sam chuckled at Gabriel’s expression of exasperation. “Don’t worry, we will. Thanks for saving us, Gabe,” Sam said sincerely as Gabriel casually broke the ropes tying him to the altar and snapped him up some clothes, healing the cuts that the worshippers had inflicted as he went.

 

“Yeah, yeah, thank you for saving our asses, I guess.” Dean’s voice was muffled from where he was bent over lacing up his boots “Just, I dunno, smite it next time. Eating those things is just gross. You don’t know where they’ve been.”

 

Gabriel laughed. “Five second rule. And look at it this way; I've saved you from having to bury any bodies. And I'm full now, so I won't try and steal any of your pizza later!”  Dean visibly shuddered, making a dramatic gagging noise. Gabriel grinned, turning to Sam. “Is he always this squeamish?”

 

“Oh yeah,” Sam said, at the same time as Dean objected “am not!” “You should see him every time we have to go into ghoul tunnels.”

 

Dean harrumphed and flipped them both the bird when they started laughing. “Are you two done? ‘Cos I want to get out of this creepy forest sometime tonight.”

 

“What was that thing, by the way?” Sam asked.

 

“What thing?” Gabriel asked, busy dismantling the altars.

 

“You know, the massive thing you conjured up with all the teeth and scales. Pretty badass.”

 

Gabriel paused before admitting, “That was me.” Sam and Dean looked at him in confusion, so Gabriel rolled his eyes and elaborated. “Loki wasn't just a disguise, numbnuts. I really was him. That was a hundred percent genuine Norse god true form you got an eyeful of!”

 

There was a momentary silence while they digested that and Gabriel finished cleaning up the clearing.

 

Dean turned to his brother. “Well, you sure know how to pick ‘em, Sam. Gotta say, he’s not much of a looker.”

 

Sam punched him in the arm.

 

Gabriel laughed. “Do you  _ want  _ to wake up with your bed full of snakes, Deano? Because you’re asking for a bed full of snakes.”

 

“Try shifter slime, that’s be much more effective,” Sam suggested.

 

“Sam! Don’t give him ideas!”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Trickster Trials](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14921342) by [Xev (Xevikan15)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xevikan15/pseuds/Xev)




End file.
